Identifying and Advocating Best Practices in the Criminal Justice System. A Texas-Centric Examination of Current Conditions, Reform Initiatives, and Emerging Issues with a Special Emphasis on Capital Punishment.

Claude Jones' Ashes

For 10 years, Travis Jones faithfully carried the ashes of his brother, who he believed had been wrongfully executed in Texas, in a box with him most everywhere he went.

That box, which became Jones' constant companion, was finally lowered into a grave at White Oak Cemetery in Porter on Tuesday. It marked the 10th anniversary of his brother Claude Jones' execution. That was just as Claude wanted, a last wish that some family members initially viewed as "crazy" but now see as prophetic.

Until his last breath, Claude, a 60-year-old career criminal, denied being the one who entered a San Jacinto County liquor store in 1989 to fatally shoot and rob the owner, Allen Hilzendager.

Before the execution, Jones told his younger brother, Travis, that he did not want to be buried in a cemetery in Huntsville with other killers and rapists. He asked his brother to sprinkle a small portion of his ashes in

three spots: the Gulf waters in Kemah, his mother's grave in Houston and his ex-wife's grave in Humble, but then preserve the rest for 10 years.

"My brother promised 'all would come out good' after that. Good things would happen," said Travis, saying his brother refused to explain further and just repeated that things would turn out "good." "He'd gotten kind of religious. I don't know if he'd had some kind of vision or dream or what."

But a few weeks before the 10th anniversary of the execution, new DNA testing has raised questions as to whether Claude was innocent. Mitochondrial DNA tests determined a strand of hair — which had been the only physical evidence linking Claude to the crime scene - actually belonged to the murder victim instead.

And:

Travis Jones, 58, a carpet installer now living in Miami, was the only one of Claude Jones' seven brothers to attend the execution.

Neither Travis nor Claude's other six brothers had ever been in trouble with the law. For about 20 years, Claude's brothers lost track of him after he stormed out of the house as a teenager. He was the admitted black sheep of the family who ran with a rough crowd and had gotten hooked on drugs and alcohol, the family said.

In 1975, Travis decided to hunt down the oldest brother, Claude, after losing two younger brothers - one to leukemia and another who was fatally run over by a motorist. He found Claude in prison.

"We grew very close," said Travis, who lost his home and went into debt to cover his brother's legal expenses and his own transportation costs to regularly visit him in prison.

Even as Claude faced his death, he didn't waver over his innocence.

"He said that he'd die and go to hell before confessing to something he didn't do," Travis said. "But he never pretended to be a saint."

From age 19, Claude spent most of his life behind bars. Yet he admitted committing only one murder - when he set a fellow inmate on fire whom he accused of trying to rape him.

So did I – and all other Texans. Together, we took the life of Claude Jones in a Huntsville execution chamber on Dec. 7, 2000. And now we know we were wrong in killing him.

Jones, 60, was executed for the robbery and murder of a liquor store owner in 1989.

Let it be stipulated: Jones was a sorry human being and a lifelong criminal.

But that's beside the point. What is important is that we erred in executing him. It shouldn't have happened.

Jones' alleged accomplices testified against him. But under Texas law, accomplice testimony alone isn't enough for a conviction. It must be backed by other evidence.

And in Jones' case, that was a single strand of hair found at the crime scene. A forensic expert examined it by microscope and testified that the hair could have come from Jones but not the store owner.

But a DNA test performed earlier this year revealed that the strand of hair was not Jones'. His conviction and execution rested on false evidence.

But our system failed him twice.

As his execution date neared, Jones asked the governor's office for a 30-day reprieve to allow DNA testing. George W. Bush was governor at the time and had granted such requests.

But Bush's staff failed to include the crucial DNA request in briefing papers. He denied a reprieve.

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The StandDown Texas Project

The StandDown Texas Project was organized in 2000 to advocate a moratorium on executions and a state-sponsored review of Texas' application of the death penalty.
To stand down is to go off duty temporarily, especially to review safety procedures.

Steve Hall

Project Director Steve Hall was chief of staff to the Attorney General of Texas from 1983-1991; he was an administrator of the Texas Resource Center from 1993-1995. He has worked for the U.S. Congress and several Texas legislators. Hall is a former journalist.